


The Choice is Yours

by Spookes (rororat)



Series: Scarefest 2015 [4]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Blood, Darkness, Day 5/6:, Gore, Scarefest, Violence, axes, hostage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:12:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4982260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rororat/pseuds/Spookes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why's Michael tied up? Who put him here? Who's talking to him? </p>
<p>And why does he have a sickening feeling that he wont be leaving this place...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Choice is Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's late, late again. I'm late, tell a friend.

Darkness. Nothing more.

The sound of old rusted pipes could be heard, still attempting to push water through them occasionally losing droplets to the floor. The taste of stale water hung in the air paired with the smell of mold and mildew that filled Michael's nose, showing years of disuse and improper care. A copper smell also was mixed with this, Michael did not want to think about what that smell could be.

“Oh, look who’s ready to face the music.”

All of a sudden, the slightly comforting darkness was flooded by fluorescent lighting. Michael's assumption was correct, as looking around the room he could see stains of dark red.

“Who the fuck?” Michael croaked out, throat dry and feeling like sandpaper. When was the last time I had a drink? How long have I been here? Where is here? “Ryan, is, is that you?” Michael stuttered, trying to shield his eyes from the light overhead, but finding his hands to be tied behind him.

“Yes Michael, it is me.”

“Ryan, get me out of here. Come on!”

“Oh but Michael…” Ryan said in a voice so low it sent a shiver down his spine, “That would ruin our fun.”

“Fun, what fucking fun?” Michael said, beginning to fold in on himself. “Ryan, you're starting to scare me.”

“I would sure hope so. Otherwise I’d be doing a poor job as your captor.”

Captor? “Ryan, what the fuck. That's enough, come off of it. Let me go.” Michael said, growing more and more desperate. “Ryan, come on. Let's leave before whatever sick fuck tied me up gets back. Ryan, we got to go! Ryan, hurry come on, don't just stand there. Come on, Ryan. Ryan! RYAN!”

Tears were beginning to peak at the corners of Michael's eyes, and he was making no attempt to stop them. Ryan let out a low chuckle, stepping further into the room. “Oh Michael, no time for tears now. Do we really want to go just as Gavin did? What happened to that rough and tough Jersey exterior?” Ryan said, swiping at one of the tears rolling down Michael’s cheek and licking at his finger. “Although, your tears are much sweeter than the former Brit’s.”

“Now, I’m a fair man.” Ryan continued, “No man should ever be able to determine the faith of another-”

“So, so. You’re going to untie me right?” Michael said, his head picking up from where he had let it hang.

“But that doesn't mean,” Ryan continued, unfazed by Michael’s hopeful words, “That doesn't mean another man can’t limit the options of someone below them. And seeing as I’m the one currently on higher ground, I believe I hold this power.” Ryan finished, beginning to circle Michael.

Michael’s body was shaking with fear beyond compare. The chair he was tied to had begun to bounce and rattle against the floor with just how jittery he had become.

“So,” Ryan resumed, “I have two options for you. So long as you pick from these two option, we will have no trouble. If you try and be inventive and create a third option, or refuse to pick, well, then I guess it's up to me to pick for you. We can either have some fun, or we can end this now… The choice is your’s Michael.”

Fun or end? What kind of choice was that? Just how Ryan said the word 'fun' left Michael's gut twisted in knots, but Michael didn’t want to 'end' just yet.

Giving out a final sigh, Michael let his head fall as he mumbled out his choice.

“Oh, what was that now? I’m afraid I didn’t quite hear you. Could you say again?” Ryan said lifting Michael’s face to meet his.

“Fucking end it, you sick bastard.” Michael spat, “Kill your friend. End me now!”

“Oh, only at your request Michael.” Ryan said, turning to leave.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going!” Michael screamed, looking to where Ryan had begun to walk away, “Can’t fucking do it, all words no bi-” 

Michael was shushed by the sound of an axe soaring through the air, and a sickening crack as the metal blade meet with Michael’s face, hitting its mark in his left eye. In the reflection of the blade embedded in his head, Michael could see his other eye looking back at him, blood slowly running down the edge of the blade.

Behind Michael's own pale reflection on the sharpened tool, a man stood just behind him. A smile overcoming the man's entire face. 

That man, Ryan, stepped forward, just as Michael’s vision began to rapidly fade to black, leaned into his ear and let out a smooth deep whisper;

“The Mad King sends his regards.”


End file.
